


The Practically Perfect Life of M. McGonagall

by jakeryanscriminalprincess



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter/Mary Poppins, Mary Poppins (1964)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), What-If, Wiki Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 01:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7993918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jakeryanscriminalprincess/pseuds/jakeryanscriminalprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maryweld McGonagall is the most influential (and subversive) witch that had the unfortunate luck of being swept under the rug. What's left of this official record only tells half her story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maryweld McGonagall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short because the whole fic mirrors a Wiki article. The lines written in italics are the "official record" of things, all else is elaboration on what truly happened.

_Maryweld McGonagall (b. 1941) was a witch who attended Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry from 1952-1959, being sorted into Ravenclaw House. After a brief ministry career, she was named Undesirable No. 38._

_Records of McGonagall were largely lost. Document recovery was chiefly inspired with a resurgence in the Squib Rights movement, whose platform drew structure from early writings of McGonagall. Unfortunately, a large part of influential witch’s life is unknown._


	2. Early Life

_Little is known about Maryweld’s childhood. Those who knew of the child to begin with claimed it was due to being kept on a short leash by her parents._

Maryweld McGonagall was born August 16, 1941. Like her siblings, Maryweld showed early signs of magic while still in her crib. While the others had the ability to summon toys to their cradle, Maryweld had a gift for apparition. She loved the thrill of whisking herself through the air and startling her muggle father with various household items popping up to scare him at inopportune times. 

When Maryweld showed a gift for apparition, her parents became increasingly protective of her. Her siblings magical talents could be explained away with sticky fingers and cleverness. You can only call someone unobservant so many times before they become offended or disturbed. The McGonagalls limited their daughter’s life even further after she disappeared for an extended amount of time one day. Several frantic hours later, she returned with fancy stories of London. Mrs. McGonagall had a picture of the city from her youth on the fireplace mantle. Maryweld had used it as inspiration for the trip. Photographs of all kinds were removed from the house.

Robert and Malcolm didn’t like playing with their sister. All the rules their parents had place on Maryweld made it difficult to play as they wanted. Maryweld often felt alienated form her family, but always had a special connection to her elder sister, Minerva. Both girls liked there mother, but, with her swear off magic, they played amongst themselves. 

When Minerva received her Hogwarts acceptance letter, Maryweld felt understandably betrayed. The girls kept a steady correspondence up over Minerva’s school year and she returned with enthralling tales of Hogwarts to entertain Maryweld with each break. Both her brothers received their letters and soon Maryweld was counting down the days until she would receive hers.

_Constantly under the watchful eye of her mother, it’s hard to say what the cunning, young witch was up to, though some sources described her as “scheming”._


	3. Hogwarts Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting to the good stuff...

_On her 11th birthday – an unknown day in 1952 - Maryweld received her Hogwarts acceptance letter._

The cheers from Hufflepuff died as Deborah Macintyre took her seat and the next name seemed a booming echo in the new quiet. 

“McGonagall, Maryweld.”

There were some quick whispers across the hall, mostly from the Gryffindor table and mostly shock at Minerva, Malcolm, and Robert having another sibling. 

When the sorting hat sat on Maryweld’s head, it took three minutes and fifty-three seconds to decide if she should be placed in Ravenclaw or Slytherin, coming remarkably close to her sister’s record of four and a half minutes. 

“Ravenclaw!” The hat finally bellowed. 

The one table erupted in cheers, and it’s a good thing they had. It covered the sighs of relief from Robert and Malcolm. Her brothers had always followed in the alienation of their sister and were among the group thought they did not have to interact with anyone not in their own house. Minerva was much kinder, more motherly. She hoped Maryweld would come into her own at Hogwarts, a place she wouldn’t have to hide. 

In the new environment, teeming with magic, Maryweld found herself quite happy. She rarely interacted with her siblings. 

From 1952-1954 were the golden years. All the McGonagall children were at Hogwarts, all excelling at various subjects. Minerva, of course, took to transfiguration. Malcolm excelled at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Robert, too. Maryweld danced about in the fields of charms and divination. 

While she found a subject to excel in, Maryweld’s proudest accomplishment she kept secret. Her “appearing game” ended the moment she stepped foot on the Hogwarts grounds. Traveling by foot or even by broom felt rather slow to Maryweld. She spent the entirety of her first year finding a way to battle the anti-apparition spell on the campus. Using similar magic to that in the chain of a time-turner, Maryweld was able to enchant an old locket. When worn, it allowed the bearer to apparate anywhere they chose. 

She went unnoticed until Christmas in her third year. Most students didn’t even notice the anti-apparition charm, seeing as they themselves could not apparate. However, Mariah Wimbleton was a nosy sort of a girl and tattled on Maryweld to her house prefect. 

With perfect execution and no dangerous splicing, there was little to no punishment any teacher could bestow. They could not pin down how it was Maryweld was able to apparate inside of Hogwarts and Professor Betheldon - the charms professor at the time - thought she should be given an award for innovation. Headmaster Arkenfy admitted her ingenuity was admirable, but said she was lucky they did not write home about the incident.

There was no letter home, but gossip about Maryweld’s disappearing act spread throughout the student body. She became the envy of several students, none louder than a squirrely little fifth year. Over the course of the next few months, Maryweld would befriend this student. Onlookers were often mystified at their relationship as it consisted of little agreement. If Hogwarts had had a debate team, the two would have argued over who ought to be captain. Yes, Maryweld enjoyed arguing with the friend she only referred to as Dolly, as it made the older student’s jaw clench in disgust and irritation. 

“Dolly, please,” Maryweld begged one day on the way down to the lake. “Tagging merpeople as if they were cattle is inhumane.”

Dolly looked personally offended. “What part of them are human?”

“They possess a capability for high cognitive function and tool making abilities. Not to mention a hierarchal society that replicates itself across the globe without contact.” Maryweld continued to list off the ways merpeople were above the ravenous animals Dolly described them as. 

By the time the pair got down to the water, Dolly had to stop Maryweld from continuing on how interacting with them, by learning from them, would better wizard society. “Stop right there, Maryweld. I will hear nothing more of half breeds.”

Maryweld looked at her debate partner with a look far too mature for her age of fourteen. “Now, Dolly, if you expect to be let into the ministry, you must keep face. As soon as you call a lycanthrope a half-breed, you’ll be out of a job. Minerva says-”

“Maryweld,” Dolly said, cutting her off. Dolly produced a pack of jelly slugs from her robe’s fold and tore into them harshly, as though she wish she could thrash Maryweld in a similar fashion. “The ministry does not favor werewolves. And I don’t care what your sister says, she has only worked there three months. Three months time did not give her the Minister’s office, so I doubt she knows all that goes on in wizard politics.”

“Calm yourself, Dolly. Merlin, I thought it was Gryffindors that had trouble controlling their emotions.”

“I beg your pardon?” Dolly screeched out indignantly.

“If you want anybody to take you seriously, you must be calm, thoughtful, and persuasive. Use what power you have to the best of your abilities, by all means, but a fancy trick with your wand is nothing short of medieval.” Maryweld stopped dead, making to turn back to the castle. When Dolly did not follow suit, Maryweld raised her voice so she could hear. “It is the 20th century! Perhaps skill yourself in a more modern, more… muggle way of magic!”

The pair’s arguments no longer echoed down the corridor. 

Two weeks later was the last Hogsmeade trip before the Christmas holiday. As was her habit, Maryweld made it just beyond the courtyard door and out of sight of the weekend’s current chaperone before disappearing. She appeared moments later at the door of the Three Broomsticks. Maryweld used the extra time to browse Honeyduke’s free of a crowd. In fact, the employees there used Maryweld’s arrival as a warning that they were about to be swamped with students.

Exiting the candy store, Maryweld was nearly run over by two boys in her year. They seem entirely unconcerned with her and wholly intent on chasing whatever it was Maryweld had missed.

Maryweld followed the stampede around the corner, convinced the two were up to no good. The two boys had another cornered, wands out. They were shouting at him, taunting him. 

The cornered boy was hit with an enchanted snowball by the first boy. The second boy coughed a spell that had their victim’s feet flying out from under him. “Are you gonna fight? Fight like a stupid muggle?”

“Dossmin! Alcherly!” At Maryweld’s sharp voice, the boys froze as if she had bewitched them. “Put those sticks away,” Maryweld ordered.

“Come any closer,” warned the taller boy, pointing his wand down the alley at Maryweld. “And you’ll have eels for hair.”

Rather than feel threatened, Maryweld straightened her scarf. “Dossmin, you couldn’t summon a sewing needle, pardon me if I don’t tremble.” 

In the next second, Maryweld was behind the two. “Unless you want to be hopping back to Kings Cross” – the boys screeched and stumbled back – “I suggest you find somewhere else to enjoy the trip.”

The boys tried to skitter away the best they could without looking scared of a girl a head shorter than them. They weren’t successful.

“Are you alright?” Maryweld asked, looking to the boy whose bottom was still planted firmly in the snow. 

The boy on the ground dusted and replace his cap in lieu of a response. “Thanks for poppin’ in there,” he said, standing. 

“T’was nothing,” Maryweld said, beginning to walk back down the alley. “You’re obviously not a Hogwarts’ student, so I don’t know who you are, but - ”

“Bertley Pipestone, at your service,” the boy interrupted, suddenly jumping in front of Maryweld’s path and giving a little hopping bow for her. “Most folks call me ‘Bert’, though. What might you be called?”

Startled at Bert’s sudden appearance in front of her, Maryweld disappeared and appeared a meter back. “Maryweld McGonagall,” she answered.

“MAAAry-wellid.” Her name sounded funny on Bert’s tongue. “Have to say, ‘Poppin’ sound’s better.”

Maryweld appeared directly in front of Bert, this time scaring him with proximity. “’Poppin’ is nice enough, but I can’t guarantee I will respond to it.”

Once he recovered from the fright Maryweld had given him, Bert looked at her quizzically. “How old are you?”

“14,” Maryweld answered tersely. 

“Blimey!” Bert exclaimed. “You must be something special to be apparitin’ already.”

“You’re too kind.”

“No such thing,” Bert jested, smiling. “As thanks for saving me face, might I offer you pint a butter beer?” Bert offered his arm to Maryweld. “And a friend to share it with?”

She took it.

As they began to walk back to the Three Broomsticks, Maryweld told Bert, “I happen to intensely dislike butter beer, however I do enjoy the company.”

Once seated, Bert hailed one of the staff members over. They seemed to know each other well.

“Hello, Bert, what’ll it be today?” said the portly man.

“Ah, you know what I like.”

Catching sight of Maryweld, the waiter looked pleasantly surprised. “And who might you be, my dear?”

“This is Poppin,” Bert answered for her.

“Only to him,” Maryweld corrected. “To the rest of the world, I am Maryweld McGonagall. How do you do?”

Maryweld extended her hand to the barkeep. He took it I both hands a shook it warmly. “Glad to see Little Bert makin’ friends.”

Maryweld ordered. Over the meal, Maryweld learned Bert was her age and had lived in Hogsmeade his whole life. Though he was a quick walk from the castle, he never attended Hogwarts or any other magic school for that matter on account of being a squib. Bert may or may not have held his breath waiting for Maryweld’s response, but there was no change in Maryweld’s attitude towards him. Bert was singing silent praises. 

Bert accompanied Maryweld across the town, assisting in picking out the last of her Christmas presents. When time came to return to the castle, Maryweld bid Bert farewell and found herself walking back alone. She thought about what Bert had told her in the Three Broomsticks. Over Christmas break, Maryweld did some investigation and inquisition about squibs. She didn’t like how they weren’t offered much. Her friends and family learnt to not ask anything that could relate back to the subject for fear of losing hours in a rant. 

In Maryweld’s fifth year, she set a record for how many house points earned by one student at one time by giving her History of Magic professor an extensive paper on the relationship between muggles and wizards. She was the top of her class and a model student, which made her parents proud. However, she had an extreme way of thinking that no one would assume went with her calm demeanor. Her emotions rarely showed intensely, but Maryweld’s opinion was as fiery as her speech. 

“If you would allow for slow progress, you might make a good Minister for Magic,” Minerva told Maryweld one day in her seventh year. It seemed like a good goal to Maryweld.

_There are many noted accomplishments of the elder McGonagall children throughout their years at Hogwarts, but none can be found for Maryweld other than her house assignment and O.W.L.s scores._


	4. Ministry Career

_Probably the second biggest stock of information on Maryweld’s life, Ministry records, show her skill in charm work. One correspondence with the Minister of Magic of the time (Inguous Tuft) called Maryweld, “a particularly vigorous worker” and “a driven individual”. However, she left the Committee of Experimental Charms unexpectedly and without word._

“I’ll take a bin of Alihotsy fudge and half a dozen Jelly slugs,” said a witch to Maryweld’s left. The delicate voice cut through the noise of the crowd and grasped Maryweld’s attention fully.

“Sorry, Miss. Today I only have cauldron cakes and licorice wands,” returned a scraggly voice.

“Well, that’s hardly any way to run a business,” said a shriller voice, vexed. “And it’s ‘Madam’.”

Maryweld craned her neck to find the voices looping around the fountain.

“M' apologies, Madam, but the Minister says I can only bring what I can carry – he won’t let me bring a cart in here.”

“ _Hmmph_. See to it you have what I want tomorrow.”

The crowd moved and opened a patch for Maryweld to spy those having the conversation. A ragged looking man with a small tray of sweets talked down to a short witch dressed entirely in emerald green and, though young was the witch, she looked positively elderly.

“I’ll try my best, Madam,” the wizard said, withdrawing into himself. 

“Dolly?” 

Maryweld was bewildered. Four years prior, Maryweld had known a small witch like the one that stood before her. However, this witch was not squirrely, in fact, she was quite round, with a face like a toad forced to show pleasure.

“ _Ehem_ ,” quietly coughed the toad. “Actually, my dear, my name is Dolores, but I must ask you call me Madam Umbridge. What shall I call you, sweetie?”

“Maryweld McGonagall,” she said with only a hint of a wounded tone. “You don’t remember? We went to Hogwarts together.”

At that, Dolores’ façade fell. The obviously forced smile calmed into an iron mask.

“You always told me it was silly,” Dolores said. “It’s easy to think things are changing when you’re young, everything seem to change so fast. However, _this_ change refuses to happen fast enough.”

Dolores shoved the stack of papers into the air between Maryweld and herself. There were countless notes and scribbles, even a doodle on the top page, but below that was a title in large print.

Maryweld read it out loud. “’Statute for Crossgentic Seclusion’? What on Earth..”

“It has come to my attention,” Dolores explained, retracting her hand and the papers with a snap. She turned sharply and walked down a long corridor, expecting Maryweld to follow. She did. “That numerous violent attacks on wizard kind have been perpetuated by magical creatures with half or even three quarter’s human blood. Merpeople, centaurs,” Dolores eyes slid to Maryweld. “Lycanthropes.”

The pair stopped outside of an office marked ‘D. Umbridge’

“These communities must be handled at arms length, for both parties’ protection,” she said with conviction. “There are few laws in place to protect a wizard’s business from anthropomorphic individuals. Those wizards are just trying to make a living – it shouldn’t be dangerous for them.” 

Maryweld was speechless. 

After a breath, Dolores added. “How would you feel if that friend from Hogsmeade ended up a werewolf because there is nothing like this in place? What was his name again? Bart, Bentley, some of the like?”

“Bert,” Maryweld replied to Dolores’ prompting. “Bert Pipestone.” 

“If you say so.”

Maryweld felt like she had missed a piece of a puzzle. “But this office, your job…you work for the Improper Use of Magic, why are you drafting something that concerns magical creatures?”

The overt fakeness returned to Dolores’ face. “This doesn’t deal with creatures, Maryweld. This legislation only deals with magic folk. Bitten individuals and particularly social centaurs are the main concern, but I shan’t forget Halflings of trolls and goblins, and vampires.” 

The last sentence was spoken in a way that made it seem a joke, but Maryweld wasn’t laughing.

“You’ll find unless it is demanded by the public or the Minister, work moves rather slow. I don’t expect this to make it into law for at least half a decade, and by then, of course, it could have changed dozen of times.” Dolores paused briefly, her breathing hitched as a small, sinister twinkle lit up her eyes. “Perhaps then, it will even included Half-blood wizards. You know there was research stating they are more likely to become violent adults? Yes, something about the blood not settling right.”

Perhaps it made sense in the way Dolores had presented it, but something in her words gave off an impression akin to a snake in the grass. If anything, it sounded a threat to Maryweld. 

She wasn’t sure if she had said goodbye or not but Dolores shut the door to her office, leaving Maryweld to find her way to her own workplace in one of the upper levels of the Ministry. 

Two days later, Wilhelmina Tuft died. The ragged candy seller in the Ministry lobby was dragged out of and banned from the Ministry when it was discovered the cause of death came from his stock of alihotsy fudge.

While Maryweld did find it sad, the events that transpired outside of Dolores’ office struck a chord deep within her and she found herself unconcerned with the Minister elections, unlike the majority of her coworkers. Dolores’ words prompted Maryweld to send a owl to the old, beloved town of Hogsmeade. A return letter had arrived just before the commotion in the lobby. Bert was no longer at home.

While Maryweld was busy with her exams, Bert had packed what he owned. Call it sad or savvy all he owned could fit into his pockets. Bert had made up his mind, being the only non-magic child to two wizard parents in the only completely magical town in Great Britain was keeping Bert locked in a place he didn’t feel right in.

When he told his parents this, his mother rightfully protested.

“What on Earth are you thinking? I wouldn’t want you going off even if you were magic, but to be a…be who you are, well, I just don’t know what will happen.” Mrs. Pipestone fluttered across the kitchen to stand in front of her son.

“Mum, you know I love you, but I can’t stay among magic folk. I’m as ordinary as a muggle,” Bert said, his hands on his mother’s shoulders. “There’s nothing for me here in Hogsmeade, but the non-magic folk got jobs they don’t even want.”

“That’s you’re reasoning?” She said, old eyes wide with disbelief. “A job? You want a job? You got one at the post as soon as you’re of age.”

Bert just gave her a sad look.

“Oh, Bertley,” Mrs. Pipestone drew her son in for a tight hug in her frail arms. “Promise you’ll keep out of trouble, cross your heart.”

Bert took a fistful of floo powder and smirked at his mother. “Cross me heart.”

Bert threw the powder with vigor. Without uttering a destination, Bert spun across the entirety of the Floo Network. The scenes flashed by too fast for Bert to know where he was going, so he steeled himself and, quite literally, threw himself forward into the unknown.

“Oi!”

Bert coughed out a lungful of charred ash.

“I’m paying you to clean this thing, not bring the mess into my parlor.”

Bert finally peeked up from his pile of ash to see a very flustered old man, holding what could’ve been a rat or abnormally sickly dog. “Sorry about that, Governor.”

“Enough apologies, out, out! I’ll have no hack chimney sweep in my house,” the man waved his hands at Bert as if shooing him towards the door. “I’d expect better service from a veteran like you.” 

Before Bert took the last step out into the street, he spun and stuck his foot in front of the door. “Say, where am I?”

“London,” the man seemed to sneer. “Cherry Tree Lane, to be exact. Now, out!”

With a shove, Bert tripped backwards as the door was slammed behind him. Bert righted himself in the gutter, checking his pockets for his paints. He sighed when the small jars weren’t broken. 

Swiping a hand down his face, Bert began to laugh. It was just a chuckle, but Bert was laughing at himself. “I’ll have to tell Poppin how far I got before I landed on me arse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umbridge is not correct in her labeling of Centaurs and Merpeople as, in her words, ‘Half breeds’. This is intentional. Please see here for more info: http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Half-breed#Types_of_half-breeds


	5. Activism and Being Named an Undesirable

_Maryweld McGonagall left the ministry in March 1960. Her reason for leaving ranges from changing career paths to an unstable working relationship with her colleagues. She made several appearances at many charitable causes between 1960 and 1962. Most nobly, McGonagall was a beloved volunteer at St. Mungo's pediatric centered events. She was noted as "an excellent teacher and mother figure"._

"'Ello, Poppin!" Bert greeted Maryweld. 

They met at a park. School was out, but the summer sun was beating down on the streets of London, making only the most hardy of children and accompanying nannies present besides a couple of street vendors, and, of course, Bert and Maryweld. 

"Hello, Bert," Maryweld returned. "How's that chalk I gave you working?"

"Just beautifully," Bert smiled.

"Keeping the motions small, are we?" Maryweld raised her eyebrows in warning.

"Don't worry, Poppin," Bert said. "I won't be bringing the Ministry down on you."

"And I am grateful for it," Mary smiled. "Ooh, Madam MacHaven gave me a new product to try." 

Maryweld dug around in her cloak pockets for a moment as Bert looked on eagerly. Soon, she produced several small tubes. "Paint," she explained. "Pre-enchanted, of course."

"Poppin," Bert gasped. "You can't."

"I very well can, will, and did." 

Maryweld continued to offer the tubes of paint to Bert until he took them. Maryweld eyed him as he put them in his cap. What else could he do? All his pockets had holes in them. 

"You let me know when those run out, and I'll have Madam MacHaven replace them. She's been a very good contact."

There was a moment of silence where both Maryweld and Bert felt dozens of questions just behind their lips, but were too afraid to say. Finally, Bert broke the stretch with a question on Maryweld’s ministry job.

“So, how are things in the magical underground?” Bert inquired.

“I haven’t worked for the Ministry in months,” Maryweld said quietly.

“Following big sister Nerva back to Hogwarts then?”

“No.” 

Bert cocked his head at that. “Are you alright, Poppin?”

Maryweld took a deep breath, steeling herself. “To be quite honest, Bert, no. I’m not helping enough people, and no body even reads my…” Maryweld didn’t even know what to call them. She wrote papers on magic law and social issues, mostly centered around the expansion on education. Recently, she had pondered what a muggle’s reaction to something simple like potions would be. This thought steam rolled over everything else and made itself out to be the solution to many wizard problems in Maryweld's eyes.

“I read them - can’t understand them much, but I try to,” Bert told Maryweld. “You’re really clever, you know that, right?”

Maryweld looked over the park, distracted. “Always so kind.”

_McGonagall also wrote many political pamphlets during her activist years. Their printings were limited with most copies being destroyed for their volatile rhetoric. The most notable was entitled_ "Muggles Maketh Magic", _which called for the abolishment of the International Statute of Wizard Secrecy. After its publication, and at the urging of some ministry workers and high profile wixen, Minister for Magic, Nobby Leach, named Maryweld McGonagall Undesirable Number 38._


	6. Life on the run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which, we learn how Maryweld becomes the beloved Mary Poppins.

_The printing of her Undesirable posters and her disappearance happened near simultaneously. Her family and known friends didn’t have a clue where Maryweld had disappeared. With only a measly price on her head, she was quickly swept under the rug as far as criminals go._

Maryweld was nervous. She had only spent a month in hiding; a month seemed far too short to reinvent oneself and come up with an airtight plan.  
Still, Maryweld stood on the front stoop for what would hopefully be her home for the next few months.

Maryweld knocked on the door and waited. A rather fat maid answered and offered to take Maryweld to the leader of the household.

She was led into a spacious dining room where an equally fat woman sat at the end of a table. 

“Good day,” Maryweld greeted, stepping closer than where the maid had left her.

The woman made a sound of agreement behind a mouthful of indistinguishable food. 

Maryweld had to wait for the uncomfortable stretch of time it took the woman to properly chew and swallow. Once she could speak, the woman launched an arsenal of questions at Maryweld. Most, Maryweld felt were irrelevant, such as how many times Maryweld had ridden a train. All throughout the ordeal, the woman did not offer Maryweld a seat, not once in the hour it took before saying she was hired. 

“What is your name?” The woman asked like it was a necessary evil. 

Maryweld’s heart stopped. “My name?”

“Yes, your name,” the woman replied irritably. “Unless you wish to only be called, ‘Nanny’.”

“Mary…Poppin.” The name came so easily to her tongue, and why shouldn’t it?

“Poppins, you said?” The woman looked at Mary quizzically. “Unusual name.”

“Well, I am an unusual nanny,” Mary said with a smile, not bothering to correct the woman.

The Abernathys were Mary’s first family and she was horribly unsuccessful. It took two and half months before Mary had enough control over her charge to be considered a remotely good nanny. Mary’s sanity was questioned the moment she claimed her medicine tasted different to each person.

The Carmichaels were much more receptive, the Winstonichs even more so. Mary even helped the Ormond family understand what was happening to their three children when they began to show signs of magic. Mary stayed with that family until their eldest receive their Hogwarts letter. It was perhaps the closest call Mary had risked. 

Over the years, Mary became a top notch nanny. Her children loved her and most if not all after the Abernathy child accepted her magic with only glee. She also gained quite the network of supporters in her travels across the United Kingdom. If she didn’t know the witch or wizard from her time at school, it usually took minimal lying on her part to get what she needed.

There was a day, early in 1968, that Mary’s fireplace happen to spit out a few scraps of paper. They all came from the same sheet and all had the same writing on it. Well, it was generous to call it writing, scrawl more like it. 

“ _Reparo_ ,” Mary said to herself. The paper scraps before her weaved themselves back together

**If you want this choice position, have a cheery disposition, rosy cheeks, no warts, play games – all sorts. You must be kind, you must be witty, very sweet and fairly pretty, take us on outings, give us treats, sing songs, bring sweets, never be cross or cruel, never give us Castor oil or gruel, love us as a son and daughter, and never smell of barley water. If you won’t scold and dominate us, we will never give you cause to hate us. We won’t hide your spectacles, so you can’t see, put toads in your bed or pepper in your tea. Hurry, Nanny, many thanks.**

**Sincerely, Jane and Michael Banks**

Even coming from a place as bizarre as the wizarding world, Mary had to admit it was a peculiar request. 

Peculiar requests happened to be Mary’s specialty.

It had been many years since her first nannying job and since then she had acquired and constructed many tools to expedite the process. She, of course, kept her locket close, but also helped to invent a diagnostic tool. A tape measure that allowed Mary to see what it was that stood in the way of the child believing in and understanding magic. More often than not, it was a personality trait for her to correct.

Aside from the physical tools, many years experience gave Mary her own bag of tricks. Any wix would be jealousy of her silent spell casting, even more would be envious of her wand-less magic. (A child in her early years refused to believe the magic Mary performed was real because of the presence of her wand.) Still, she kept it close, strapped to her thigh in a holster of her own design. 

She packed the entirety of her things into her bag, including things as heavy as her medicine jug and as tall as a hat rack. Before leaving the little cabin, Mary dawned her locket (it gained quite a few more enchantments since her Hogwarts days) and grabbed her umbrella. 

Now, her umbrella was some true ingenuity. One of her Hogwarts house mates, Brooklyn Aldermeyer, had always been passionate about brooms and flying. She had become a “broom crafter”, or broom engineer. Even after Mary went on the run, Brooklyn was all too ready for the challenge of crafting something with the properties of her broom that was not a broom. That imagie of magic had become far too sinister to be taken well. There had been several trial runs, but a cane never suited Mary. There wasn’t much else with the same amount of wood that went unnoticed. Finally, the two stumbled upon an umbrella, which Mary much preferred. 

Mary magically erased every trace of herself from the little cabin before using the umbrella to fly to 17 Cherry Tree Lane.

She knocked, disrupting what could’ve been an argument between an anxious voice and a proud one. Mary took a deep breath as the door clicked open. Then, Mary was pushing past the timid woman and into the home.

“Hello, I’ve come in response to the advertisement.” 

_There is no record between her disappearance from the wizard world and her death._


	7. Death

_Maryweld McGonagall died October 14th, 1978. Her body showed signs of the Cruciatus Curse, but true cause of death is unknown._

“’Nerva!” Bert’s voice tore through the silent Hogwarts castle. “Somebody! ‘Elp!”

Bert stumbled into the courtyard, Mary slung between him and another witch like a wet dishrag. The desperate cries of the duo seemed to wake the entire castle. They were soon swarmed with numerous Hogwarts students, professors, and prefects. 

“Out of my way! That’s my sister!” 

Minerva fought her way through the crowd of students to the spot on the floor where Mary was discarded. She was breathing but just barely with no light in her eyes.

“Maryweld,” Minerva breathed, dropping to her knees. “Oh, Maryweld, where have you been?”

“Minerva, please, give me room,” Madam Pomfrey pleaded, shouldering Minerva out of the way in an attempt to keep Mary from dying.

There was no struggling, no gasping for breath, no desperate attempts by Mary to keep fighting or impart and dying words. Mary was fading and there was a quiet hurry to try to stop the inevitable. The urgency kept everyone still as the fog that hung around the campus like a damp blanket. Students were not dismissed back to the dorms. Not moments later a feeling of eerie tranquility settled in the hall. The Madam’s shoulders sagged, everyone let out the breath they had been holding, and Bert removed his cap.

“What happened?” Minerva asked fiercely, looking between Bert and his companion, who had sunk to the ground and begun to weep. 

Minerva recognized her as Caessa Correy, a witch known for creating the most hardy spells. What Mary had to do with her, Minerva decided it was a mystery for another day. 

“’M sorry, ‘Nerva,” Bert said, wringing his cap. “If I’da known, I couldda…I didn’…”

“What. Happened?”

“I don’t have a clue, I wasn’t there. She was.” Bert pointed to Caessa, not taking his eyes from the ground.

It was hard to make out past the witch’s cries; for a witch who dealt with linguistic magic, she was a jumble of random syllables. Only one word was said with some clarity: Carrow. 

_There is record of a Death Eater attack on Caessa Correy’s business, the Talking Shop, on October 14th. Witnesses say a group of Death Eaters entered the Talking Shop and began firing upon numerous wixen._

_Eye-witness accounts also place a woman matching Maryweld McGonagall’s description in the tent with three young children. It is unknown the identities of the children as they fled the scene at the witch’s urging. The witch then engaged the Death Eaters._

_Those still within earshot heard the assailants call the woman various slurs such as ‘Mudblood’ and ‘muggle-lover’. The last incantation recorded was the Cruciatus Curse. The identity of the caster and victim are unknown._


	8. Maryweld's Impact

“Blimey,” a voice startled Minerva.

She jumped and turned to the door. Bert looked as he always did, though he had tried to look his best. Most if not all of his clothes has soot on them, but he did pick the jacket with the least amount of holes. 

“You look like a million knuts, ‘Nerva.” 

“Get out.”

Bert’s face fell. “What?”

“I said, get out,” Minerva repeated, face set in cool anger. “If it weren’t for you, Maryweld would be here. I don’t want you at my wedding.” 

“You think it’s my fault?” Bert couldn’t believe his ears. “Nerva, I did all I could. I tried to-”

“I don’t care what you tried to do,” Minerva snapped. “Maryweld loved magic. She wanted to stay at Hogwarts so she wouldn’t have to hide. Then she met you and she wanted to go out into the muggle world. You might be a the son of a witch, but you are, in essence, a muggle and-” 

“Life was shit because of people like you!” Bert spat at the bride, interrupting her. “Looking at me like I’m sick, like something’s wrong when I was just as special as you. Mary thought so, long before she met me. I grew up minutes from Hogwarts, but never got to go because I don’t got a spec a magic in my blood. Something about that ain’t right. Mary saw that. And she was trying to fix it!”

Minerva was trying her best to stay angry so her makeup wouldn’t run with her tears. “She was trying to get herself killed. She knew it was risky when she left the ministry.”

“And was it risky to never help her?”

Minerva didn’t answer.

“You could’ve done it. If you had helped her, Nerva, she would’ve been safe. Maybe it’s your fault she wasn’t watching out for herself. You were all safe back at Hogwarts.” Bert spat the name like a curse.

Minerva stayed quiet, fearing if she opened her mouth the tears would come and today wasn’t suppose to be a sad day, it was supposed to be the happiest day in her life, patronus material and all. It wasn’t and would never be.

“Some Gryffindor you are.”

Bert huffed his way out of the venue, stopping briefly to thank Elphinstone for the invitation and his thoughtfulness. He passed his gift to Minerva off to him, telling him to say it didn’t have a name on it when they opened it later. Not that there would be any doubt as to who the gift was from.

Bert was never magical, he didn’t know what house he would’ve been in or which class he’d want to skip if he had the chance, but with Mary gone and Minerva indifferent, Bert took it upon himself to keep teaching the muggle children about magic with the little that he knew. He didn’t have the gift for it the same way Mary did and the death eaters had obliterated her magical tools; her umbrella, her tape measure, and anything in that bag of hers, all gone. 

It would take years, maybe decades for him to make any difference, but Bert felt it was his duty to keep carrying Mary’s torch.

If it were to ever work, if he were ever to go past Hogwarts’ front door, he might be able to find her. When Minerva returned to the school after her wedding, she hung the gift Bert had given her exactly between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers. If a student should so feel the need for a healthy debate or help settling an argument, they could find Maryweld just as she was when she first met Bert, young, clever, and chilled by the snow. 

_After the Second Wizard War and a revival in the Squib Rights Movement, massive social reform began, centered on Squib Rights. Headmaster of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall, handed over proposed legislation and notes by her deceased sister, Maryweld McGonagall, at the request of Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt knew Maryweld during her short time at the Ministry and recalls nearly leaving his Ministry job to join Maryweld in her activism before being offered a promotion that kept him in the organization._

_Maryweld’s ideas were used as a foundation for_ The Magical Education Inclusion Edict _, a law that deems it necessary for squibs to receive equal education in magical arts. The landmark legislation increased the rights and abilities of non-magic and muggleborn wixen across northern Europe._

_Maryweld McGonagall both expanded and unified the magical world, changing the course of magic history._


	9. Maryweld's Official Record

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This bonus chapter is all of the official records for those who would like to see those isolated.

**Maryweld McGonagall**

Maryweld McGonagall (b. 1941) was a witch who attended Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry from 1952-1959, being sorted into Ravenclaw House. After a brief ministry career, she was named Undesirable No. 38.

Records of McGonagall were largely lost. Document recovery was chiefly inspired with a resurgence in the Squib Rights movement, whose platform drew structure from early writings of McGonagall. Unfortunately, a large part of influential witch’s life is unknown. 

**Early Life**

Little is known about Maryweld’s childhood. Those who knew of the child to begin with claimed it was due to being kept on a short leash by her parents. 

Constantly under the watchful eye of her mother, it’s hard to say what the cunning, young witch was up to, though some sources described her as “scheming”. 

**Hogwarts Years**

On her 11th birthday – an unknown day in 1952 - Maryweld received her Hogwarts acceptance letter. 

There are many noted accomplishments of the elder McGonagall children throughout their years at Hogwarts, but none can be found for Maryweld other than her house assignment and O.W.L.s scores. 

** Ministry Career **

Probably the second biggest stock of information on Maryweld’s life, Ministry records, show her skill in charm work. One correspondence with the Minister of Magic of the time (Inguous Tuft) called Maryweld “a particularly vigorous worker” and “a driven individual”. However, she left the Committee of Experimental Charms unexpectedly and without word.

** Activism and Being Named an Undesirable **

Maryweld McGonagall left the ministry in March 1960. Her reason for leaving ranges from changing career paths to an unstable working relationship with her colleagues. She made several appearances at many charitable causes between 1960 and 1962. Most nobly, McGonagall was a beloved volunteer at St. Mungo's pediatric centered events. She was noted as "an excellent teacher and mother figure". 

McGonagall also wrote many political pamphlets during her activist years, the most notable entitled "Muggles Maketh Magic", which called for the abolishment of the International Statute of Wizard Secrecy. After it's publication and at the urging of some ministry workers and high profile wixen, Minister for Magic Nobby Leach named Maryweld McGonagall Undesirable Number 38.

** Life on the Run  **

The printing of her Undesirable posters and her disappearance happened near simultaneously. Her family and known friends didn’t have a clue where Maryweld had disappeared. With only a measly price on her head, she was quickly swept under the rug as far as criminals go. 

There is no record between her disappearance from the wizard world and her death.

** Death **

Maryweld McGonagall died October 14th, 1978. Her body showed signs of the Cruciatus Curse, but true cause of death is unknown.

There is record of a Death Eater attack on Caessa Correy’s business, the Talking Shop, on October 14th. Witnesses say a group of Death Eaters entered the Talking Shop and began firing upon numerous wixen.

Eye-witness accounts also place a woman matching Maryweld McGonagall’s description in the tent with three young children. It is unknown the identities of the children as they fled the scene at the witch’s urging. The witch then engaged the Death Eaters.

Those still within earshot heard the assailants call the woman various slurs such as ‘Mudblood’ and ‘muggle-lover’. The last incantation recorded was the cruciatus curse. The identity of the caster and victim are unknown.

** Impact **

After the Second Wizard War and a revival in the Squib Rights Movement, massive social reform began, centered on Squib Rights. Headmaster of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall, handed over proposed legislation and notes by her deceased sister, Maryweld McGonagall, at the request of Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt knew Maryweld during her short time at the Ministry and recalls nearly leaving his Ministry job to join Maryweld in her activism before being offered a promotion that kept him in the organization. 

Maryweld’s ideas were used as a foundation for The Magical Education Inclusion Edict, a law that deems it necessary for squibs to receive equal education in magical arts. The landmark legislation increased the rights and abilities of non-magic and muggleborn wixen across northern Europe. 

Maryweld McGonagall both expanded and unified the magical world, changing the course of magic history.


End file.
